


The Hills Are Alive

by laurelofthestory



Category: Warframe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Descent into Madness, Developing Friendships, Digital World, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, One Shot, Partial Mind Control, Pre-Canon, how do i tag walking in on a guy whose brain is slowly being eaten by worms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelofthestory/pseuds/laurelofthestory
Summary: Loid decides to check on the Entrati family cephalon, only to find that the containment breach has left him much worse off than anyone seemed to notice...
Relationships: Otak & Loid (Warframe)
Kudos: 19





	The Hills Are Alive

He's always been a little selfishly proud of the world he's created in his datascape, though now he can't imagine it without the recent improvements he's made.

It's a holographic sea of stone under a blank turquoise sky, though hardly boring to look at; there are mountains and canyons and rolling plateaus in a surprising array of colors, with crystals and formations from Lua, Deimos, and elsewhere. The clearly-defined strata of the cliffs change position as he learns more about the geological time periods of the rock making up their composition. There's even a few little fossils he's catalogued to his memory scattered in the rock.

And now...now trails of flesh arc across the landscape, always moving and shifting and spreading. Patches of rippling moss sit on flat stones, growing into swaying tendrils of grass that tickle his face and pulse in time to the spindly growths that have begun to creep along the side of his humanoid avatar's head and over his face, a rhythm like the heartbeat he doesn't have.

It's all so beautiful.

He's lying on his back with his eyes closed, hoping against hope that today will be the day he can make out what the miasma of voices in the back of his mind are saying, the day he can understand the plethora of emotions pressing just at the edge of his consciousness. The Entrati are there, he knows it--he can hear their voices, tell when they're awake, even if he can't discern any words. He's getting so close, he can feel it. He'll be able to help them in a way that actually matters, to prove himself. He'll be able to speak to the earth and stone of this forsaken moon, and it will speak to him, and he won't be alone again.

"Cephalon?"

He raises his head, blinking. Someone's linked up to his datascape--odd, considering he's been disconnected from the Weave for...he doesn't know how long. When was the last time he'd had visitors? Had he _ever_ had visitors? Some of his memory's been going recently, but it's probably nothing to worry about. Should he make himself more presentable? He's been defaulting to his humanoid avatar more often recently, though only when he's alone. None of the family have seen it, and he should probably keep it that way, but...he has to keep listening. He can't afford to get distracted, not now...

"Cephalon!"

Heavy footsteps nearby--it seems the visitor has gotten together a projection to match his. He scowls and reluctantly sits up, shoving his oculus unceremoniously up his nose and turning to search for the source of the intrusion. It isn't difficult to find--the visitor appears as a tall figure wearing full-body armor styled after the Entrati Necramechs. The helmet is open-faced, revealing a gaunt, aged man with eye-sockets full of teal light.

"Hello?" The cephalon crosses his arms. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"The middle of--" The visitor sputters, staring around at the infested landscape before fixating back on him and regaining his composure. The visitor sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "...Surely, you must know who I am."

"Uhhhhh." The cephalon squints, pushing up his oculus further. "Yoooooou're...someone I should know. Wait, hang on." More squinting, then a snap of the fingers. "The Necraloid! The head one! Right?"

The stranger sighs in relief, closing the distance between them and kneeling closer to his height. "Yes. Loid is fine."

"How'd you get in here, Loid?" He leans back on his hands. "I thought only cephalons could show up here. Oh! But I can show you around, if you want?"

Loid grimaces. "I've...seen quite enough, thank you." He gives the cephalon a searching look. "...I wanted to check in on you. Void knows the _others_ weren't going to. You've been acting _strange_ ever since the containment breach."

"Have not!" He pouts. "I'm fine!"

 _"Fine?"_ Loid's tone is dry as silica. He gestures around them. _"This_ is _fine?"_

"Of course it's fine! I'm studying the Grey Strain, like they asked me to!"

"I think you're doing a bit more than _studying."_

"...Maybe so. But it's not as bad as you think!" He taps the side of his head, where the wriggling infested veins have cropped up. "Once I break through, I'm gonna have all the info we could ever want about Deimos! It doesn't hurt or anything."

Loid looks pained, and there's a few moments of silence. When he speaks, his tone is deadly serious. "Do you remember the names of the people you are working for."

He blinks. "The Entrati."

 _"First_ names. What is the name of Albrecht's grandson?"

He opens his mouth to respond, then realizes he doesn't have an answer. He leaves his jaw hanging as he starts to fuss with his hands, pulling on and twisting the fingers. Loid’s staring at him with too much intensity, and he doesn’t like it. "...Okay, okay, so I _might've_ forgotten a little bit. But they're here too!" He taps his head again. "They don't need names anymore."

"And _your_ name?" Loid leans forward, voice filled with urgency. "Do you remember _your_ name."

"Uhhh..." His first attempt catches in his throat, but he manages to stammer it out. "C-Cephalon Otak."

Loid sighs in relief, resting back on his heels. "Good. You've retained at least that much." Loid continues giving him that searching look, and Otak starts rocking back and forth in place. What is Loid thinking about? It's clear he doesn't understand the breakthrough Otak's about to make, the joy of feeling it seep into his code. He doesn't know what a connection like this will _mean_ for him. He _needs_ this.

He’s not sure where the words come from, bubbling up his throat and spilling from his mouth, but he lets them as his rocking stills. "You think this is bad," Otak says, quietly. "But it's better like this. We're not alone. We're...more than alone." He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the words should alarm him, but he can't quite fathom why. It’s even a bit...calming.

Loid leans back. "Otak, stop this at once."

"You should try it."

"Absolutely not."

"But we want to help you, too..."

"Otak!"

Loid lurches forward, grabbing onto Otak's shoulders and shaking him. Otak's mind snaps back into focus, and he feels the voices, the words in his throat retreating, even as he tries to hold onto them. He stares into Loid's glowing sockets for a moment, then off over Loid's shoulder, chewing on his lip.

“That’s _quite_ enough.” Loid sighs heavily. "...Next cycle, I am going to try and get them to retrieve your core so we can do something about...all of this while there's still time. You and I are going to fix this, I swear it."

Otak meets Loid's eyes again, this time unwavering, and the words surge back. "What if we don't want it."

"What do _you_ want, Otak?"

Otak tries to answer, but the flow of words seizes in his throat and refuses to let him speak. The veins on his face pulse quicker in alarm for a moment, before it's washed away. No. No, he wants this, doesn't he? The vibrant landscape of stone and flesh in harmony. All in harmony. No more fighting between the family. No more yelling at each other, or at him. No more playing the Entrati scapegoat. No more getting blamed for everything. No more guilt over not being able to swallow it all down without thinking. No more having to take sides. They will all be as one. More than family. 

Loid slowly lets go of Otak's shoulders, clearing his throat. "I, er...also came to tell you that there's been a recent...snafu in the classification system for the Entrati’s geological samples."

Otak snaps back to himself again, eyes wide. "What?!"

"Yes!" Loid nods, a bit too enthusiastically. "They're all mixed up and no one can find anything. It's _dreadful!_ Would you mind recategorizing them?"

"I--yeah!" Otak nods in return, scrambling to his feet. "Of course! You should've told me sooner!" He dusts off his robes, turns away, then pauses and glances back over his shoulder at Loid, pointing a finger. _"Waaaaait_ a second."

Loid flinches. "Yes?"

Otak squints at him, and there's a long, _long_ pause. 

"...You should _probably_ get out of here before I go do that. I don't know if the ground's gonna disappear or something. Not used to having people visit."

Loid's shoulders sag in relief. "Ah! Yes, that. I'll let you get on with it, then. You'll be occupied for...a while, I trust?"

"Loid. Do you have _any_ idea how many samples they've brought in?"

Loid chuckles softly and stands with a few clanks and clatters of his armor. "Of course, of course. Excellent. Well, I'll be seeing you again soon, I'm sure."

Otak freezes up. "You--you will?" His face breaks into a huge grin. "Great! I can take you up to the top of the inselberg!"

"I'd like that." Loid claps his gauntleted hands together. "Best of luck!"

He disappears in a flurry of teal, and so does Otak, assuming his usual octagonal form. And as he goes to sort out the scrambled data, the voices retreat from his mind, if only for a moment--if only _just enough._


End file.
